The Perfect Romance
by Gabrielle de Pointe du Lac
Summary: Hermione's 7th year and what ensues
1. Shattered

*Disclaimer* I own nothing except the plot. The HP characters are not mine, nor is the setting.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
*Thunk* Hermione winced as her wand hit the floor.  
  
"MS. GRANGER!!!" The angry potions master raised his eyes from the tests on his desk, his red pen still poised to correct it. "Did you not SWEAR to me that i would have complete silence from you?! You are after all the one who demanded the chance to make up this assignment!"  
  
"My apologies professor, I was concentrating on not spill the beaker of..."  
  
"Did I ASK for excuses?? You are here because I had the goodwill to allow you a chance to redeem yourself in this class, NOTHING else!"  
  
"Yes sir." Hermione muttered stiffly. The arrogant bastard! Who did he think he was? If HE hadn't hit her elbow while she was stirring the potion in class yesterday, none of this would have happened!  
  
Snape adjusted his gaze and tried to refocus on his task. Only now, thanks to her, that was impossible. What had he been thinking yesterday, leaning so close to her? There was no logical explanation for it. He had no reason to keep watch over her, she was an excellent student. Forget it!, he told himself. There is nothing that can be done about it now. But still, if he hadn't known better, he could have sworn some unrecognizable force had drawn him toward her....Impossible, he thought, just clumsiness. Now, don't let some insolent student distract you!  
  
As Hermione added the final drop of liquid to the mixture, she reached for an empty beaker and cork. The problem was, she thought, the darn thing was so far away!! She silently cursed her cauldron for impeding her movement. She stood on the tips of her toes, set her teeth an edge, braced her elbow against the table, and pulled every muscle as taut as possible while reaching for the beaker. Just...a...little...further... She thought persistently. Just a little more weight right here and...  
  
*CRASH*  
  
"That's it! There is a breaking point for all human nerves and you have just reached mine!" Snape shouted in anger, slamming his chair furiously against the wall as he stood up. His gray eyes were livid with fury as he proceeded to walk toward Hermione. Hermione looked up from where she lay and took stock of the situation. She sighed inwardly, it was worse than she had imagined. When she had shifted her weight to her elbow, it had been enough to break the balance of the table and send it plummeting to the stone floor, shattering all objects perched on top. All of her extra ingrediants, wand, potion's book, stove burner, everything. But even this might not have been so bad , save one fact. When the table tipped, she had nothing to brace herself against, and therefore fell into her cauldron, knocking it over on her and all of the former contents of the table. Oh my, she thought bitterly, and mentally resigned herself to the storm of the century from Snape.  
  
His feet crunched against the shattered glass as he surveyed the disaster. "In all of my years, I have NEVER seen such a wreck! And from you Ms. Granger!" Snape proceeded forward, watching her emerald green eyes lower, and strands of sopping wet hair fall into her face. His eyes wandered, searching for the past of least resistance through the wet sludge on the floor. He finally plunged forward, bent down, put his hands on Hermione's slender waist, and hoisted her into the air. As he did so, peices of glass fell from her dripping robe and landed with a soft tinkle against the stone brick. Snape twisted around and backtracked, trying to step clear of the sharp, clear substance. As he did so, Hermione's waterlogged potion's book seemed to wish to impede his escape, and Snape's foot struck it at the wrong angle. He realized what was happening, and as they fell, had just enough time to shift his baggage to a position where she would suffer least harm. His head hit first, making sharp contact with the merciless stone. His skull felt like it had been pounded by a thousand hammers. But the small bundle lying on top of him was unhurt. Hermione lifted her head and looked down at the still form beneath her. Snape's black hair was disheveled and his normally pasty skin had taken on a new pallor. His opened his closed eyes, blinked and the groaned in pain.  
  
"Ms. Granger, a bit of advice. Do not attempt to trip your rescuer, no matter what your feeling for him are."  
  
Hermione's eyes narrowed. All pity and concern she had felt for him had disappeared at the moment he uttered those words. Of all the despicable things!! To try and blame her because he couldn't control his own movements! She stood up abruptly, careful shove him a little more than was necessary, and stepped away. Two swift steps brought her to her bookbag, and she wrapped her fingers around the handle and proceeded to cross the space to the door.  
  
Snape groaned again, rolled over, barely conscious of the glass, and used his hands to push himself upright. His vision focused and he noticed that Hermione was about to stalk out the door.  
  
"Ms. Granger! Wait!"  
  
Hermione stopped where she stood, fingers still resting on the doorknob, and tensed, waiting.  
  
"I apologize." Snape murmured, running his fingers over his robe in a sweeping motion, sending the clinging glass to the floor. "I realize it isn't your fault that I tripped." Hermione relaxed, hoping the professor understood and was willing to forget her accident.  
  
"However, your potion lies spilt all across the room. I don't see how I could possibly give you credit for work I can not grade. Therefore you will receive a zero on this assignment."  
  
Hermione's rage built, rising steadily, and she whirled around. "But professor, ! You know it would have been correct! Give me another chance to make this up! Please!"  
  
But Snape ignored Hermione's passionate plea for another chance. "You know my rules Ms. Granger." Snape sneered. "One chance to make up an assignment, no exceptions." Snape stepped forward until he and Hermione were almost touching, and then said with measured cold, "And detention for the week for the damage to this room." He locked eyes with her and rasped, "Understood?" "Yes sir." Hermione muttered, struggling to keep her anger in check. Then she turned on her heel, threw open the door, and stormed out.  
  
  
  
  
  
WHEW!!! This took forever to type!!! More coming! There will be 15 chapters in all. Please r/r. AWWW!!! I LOVE THIS!!!!!!  
  
All my love to Peter Wiggin 


	2. Light

all all 1 84 2002-09-19T19:39:00Z 2002-09-19T21:03:00Z 2 884 5043 Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation 42 10 6193 9.2720 

Chapter 2

Hermione stared at her porridge and pushed it around with her spoon.  Her chin was resting in her upturned palm, and occasionally she would let out a long sigh.  Finally Ginny set her glass down and said questioningly,  "Ok Mione, you have been sulking for three days now.  I understand detention with Snape isn't your customary after dinner activity, but I am sure the library appreciates the break."   Sydney Parker,  one of Ginny's friends stuffed a piece of cake into her open mouth and looked up. "Come on Ginny, give her some slack! A week's detention is bad, but a week with Snape is quite possibly the worst thing that could happen.  So exactly how bad is it?"  

"Wellll…" Hermione started to say something and then trailed off.  "Fine I guess…But I shouldn't be there!  It isn't MY fault he is a careless, unfeeling prick!  He could have some mercy!  If he hadn't been standing so close to me, he wouldn't have hit my arm! But above ALL of that, I don't get credit on that assignment!!  What cant he think about what this will do to my average in potions?  Just once, he could show some…."

"STOP!!"  Ginny ordered.  "Mione.  You're sulking.  It wont do any good to wish it had never happened.  Obviously you and Snape don't see eye to eye on this, but maybe he will change his mind.  You never know, after all, even Snape is human."

"Yeah.  Maybe. But I wont be counting on it. And I have to see that wretched git for a week, A WEEK!" Hermione rushed off again on her tangent.  "Oh Lord,"  She groaned,  "If we don't hurry we'll be late for potions.  And God knows I am in enough trouble.

*   *   *  

Ginny, Sydney and Hermione opened the heavily paneled potions door slowly, well aware that they were late.  Sydney caught her breath and marched into the room, holding her head high. Ginny followed ssuit behind her.  But Hermione, who brought up the rear, slouched slightly as she entered, keep her head down and her eyes fixed on the floor.   The eyes of ever member of Gryfinndor and Ravenclaw followed their movements, quite glad their places were not switched. The three friends took their seats, the foremost three in proximity to Snape's desk, and slowly pulled them out.  The scraping of the chairs against the floor created an almost painful noise, very close to the sound of nails on a chalkboard.  

"Well, well,"  Snape sneered  "I assume all three of you know the penalty for tardiness."  Snape smiled evilly, greatly enjoying metting out punishment to Gryfinndor students.  "Ten points a piece taken from Gryffindor, and for you Ms. Granger…"  Snape chuckeled  "You arrived just as the clock struck ten minutes late.  Hmmm…I believe that constitutes detention for a week."

Hermione couldn't believe this.  Another week!?!  She raised her head to protest, and then stopped.  Snape locked eyes with her and smiled.  Hermione didn't know exactly what stopped her resistance, but there was something in his expression that told her it might not be as bad as she thought.  Or quite possibly it could be much worse, she thought wryly.  But maybe…

Snape's next words stalled her thoughts.   "Ms. Granger, there is another matter I wish to address with you.   I have your grade for the assignment you stayed after to make up."  How unfeeling, Hermione thought silently. It's one thing to ruin my grade, it's another entirely to reveal it in front of the entire class.  "Excellent work, Ms. Granger.  A perfect potion.  Only, wasn't the assignment to make a disappearing solution?  Because I believe I received a levitation potion….Hmmmm…but because you care so much Ms. Granger, enough to stay after class, You get a hundred for effort."

Hermione's eyes almost popped out of her skull. Snape?!?! Give a hundred for late work? Work she hadn't even turned in? But what was this crap about a mixed up potion?  Hermione was sure no one in that room believe that SHE of all people had COMPLETELY mixed up an assignment.  What had happened???

*   *   *

Later…

Snape drummed his fingers against his oak desk. Why had he shown mercy on Ms. Granger? He had every intent of flunking her on that assignment.  She did after all deserve a zero.  But….it had just come out.   Snape pulled out his pocket watch to check the time.  Five minutes left until Hermione's detention…five blissful minutes. Snape leaned back into his chair, content for the moment.  Oh blessed silence!  The only good thing that existed in his life now. The time he had away from humanity.He closed his eyes, trying to make the most of…

*WHAM*

Snape jerked, surprised, and stood up.  The door hit the stone wall with a resounding boom. Hermione stumbled in, breathless and flushed.  She   extended her palm, placing it on the wall to steady herself, at the same time reaching back to slam the door. She then threw herself around and drew the iron bolt across the door.  Her hand dove into her robe pocket, fumbled around, and produced her wand. She brandished it high into the air and muttered a locking curse.  It was thoroughly clear she wished nothing to enter the room, or leave it.  She crumpled, her knees and hands flat on the floor as she struggled to catch her breath.  

"Ms. Granger!  I demand an explanation for your uncalled for behavior!"

Hermione panted and mumbled incoherently. "Draco....ran fast..."  Snape managed to catch those three words.  He stared down at the young woman laying at his feet.  He watched her chest rise and fall with every stolen breath.   His silver flecked eyes traveled over her curved back, and he felt an uncommon emotion consume his soul.  Her brown wavy hair hung in disarray, fallen downward into her eyes.  Her long black robes formed a puddle of soft material on the gray floor, and every gasp shook her delicate frame.  A slight whisp of black hair fell into Snape's line of sight as he bent down.  His slender fingers ficked forward forward and adjusted the strand just as his knees connected with the ground.  Snape fastened his fingers firmly around Hermione's wrist.  With his other hand he reached forward and gently took her chin into his palm.

"Hermione?"  His voice betrayed a sense of deep concern.  "Are you alright? What happened?" He gently angled her face upward until he was looking into her green eyes. Her tounge quickly darted over her lips, moistening them after the long run. "It was Draco." She whispered, hanging her head once more. "He...we were..." Snape pulled her chin up once more. "What is it Hermione? Did he hurt you?" Snape inquired with a mix or curiosity and worry. Hermione shook her head. "We were walking to the library," She stuttered, looking ashamed. "I stopped because my shoe was untied, and when I looked up," Hermione paused, trying to decide how much to reveal to Snape. Hermione made up her mind and continued. "And when I stood up he pushed me against the wall and...and tried to..." She stopped, a sob caught in her throat. Hermione broke own and threw herself against Snape's shoulder. Snape needed no other explanation, he understood what she didn't want to have to put into words. He brought one hand to the back of her head and ran his fingers through her tangled hair, trying vainly to comfort her. The other he rested on her back. She cried silently, sobs wracking her body as he held her close. "Oh child," He started, trailing off as he realized that having never been in her position, he could not offer verbal condolence. Snape grimaced. The poor girl. But even in the position of counselor and confidante that he had so abruptly been thrust into, he couldn't help but enjoy the situation. As terrible as this was, it had given him a chance that he had until now been deprived of. Snape sat calmly, experience a sweet serenity as he hugged her. He could feel her hot breath on his neck, the wet tears moistening his robe where she lay her head, her small arms encircling his waist. He felt her tiny breasts, a enticing warmth pressed against his own chest. He removed both hands and placed them on her chin and neck, lifting gently. She had stopped crying, the streaks of pain drying on her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." She started, only to have her words cut off by his mouth. Hermione jerked straight. He had leaned forward, not wanting to hear an apology from her for the best thing that had happened to him in quite awhile. Instead he followed his desire, and pressed his lips to hers, softly, gently. It took her a moment to get over the initial shock, but soon she had calmed. Hermione still had her arms wrapped tight around his waist, hands flat against his back. Snape kissed her a little harder, and thrust his tounge forward. Like a lever he used it to gently part her lips and venture inside. He explored her mouth slowly, lovingly, and placed one hand one again against her hair. He tangled his fingers in it, cautiously, not wanting to hurt her. After a few moments Hermione reacted to his deft exploration and tentatively made her own move. She pushed her own tounge forward, searching for his. When found she started at the tip, gently making contact and sensuously stroking the length of it. This teasing contact continued for several minutes uninterrupted. Suddenly Professor Snape pulled away. He stood up quickly, letting go of Hermione, and turned so his back was to her. "Please, leave now." He uttered in an abnormally gruff voice. Hermione stood, stunned. Was he so revolted that he couldn't stand to see her now? She found her wand where she had dropped it on the floor, and undid the locking curse. Slowly she walked toward the door, twisting the knob and opening the door. She exited to the hall, glancing back only once as she reclosed the door. In the potions room Snape sank down to his knees. Carefully he lowered his head until his forehead rested on the cold stone. How chilly he felt now, without her body pressed against him. But his existence was no longer bleak, a small light burned ahead. A beacon that guided his thoughts away from dispair.

  
  
  
  
  
  


OH MY!!!! I had to change the plot and the characters and an entire scene!!! LHM!!! Well, that's done!! I don't know when I'll get a chance to put chapter 3 up.....but i will, i promise. 

All my love to Peter Wiggin


	3. Tranquil Anquish

Chapter 3

  
  


Snape peeled back the gold satin sheets and slipped into bed. A short brass reading lamp gave off light,, the glow a pale aqua from filtering through the glass lampshade. A wide leather bound book sat next to the lamp on the richly colored hardwood night stand. Embossed on the cover, the initial SS . Snape relaxed and leaned back, letting his black hair rest against the light shade of coal that represented his pillowcase. Without glancing over, Snape extended his arm and moved the leather book through the air, finally setting it on the sheets above his chest. His newly polished fingernails glinted in the aqua light as he stroked the cover of the book. His most precious possession, containing all of his innermost thoughts committed to thick vanilla paper. He raised the cover, and paged through until he came to a blank sheet. He reached toward the night stand again, feeling for the gold inlayed pen that laid there. He uncapped it and released the pent up passion of the day, contained in the form of black ink.

  
  


" Oh God! The chance of a lifetime, the completion of every dream, the desire of my every waking moment. Just to hold her, that's all I wanted. The feel of her soft breasts beneath the robe, the expression of pure ecstasy in her eyes, pure bliss. And the feel of her small waist, shivering beneath my palm. No words exist to describe how much I love her, for how many years I have longed for that. And how disappointed I am in myself! I have fought that since she stepped into this school, since the first time she raised her hand to answer my questions. I am no better than any other womanizer, and worse, she is a child! A student, my responsibility! I have betrayed every trust, and worse, I have betrayed her. I deserve the hell that exists for people of the worst crimes, but God help me, I enjoyed it. I wouldn't trade it for anything. If this condemns me, then I will take it. I am despicable, vile, and evil. I am everything everyone thinks about me, but I won't change. I love her and I can't give it up. God help me..."

  
  


Snape let the pen fall from his fingers. He stared down at the words he had written in anguish. Such a choice! To live without her was impossible to imagine, unthinkable. To have her, to complete what he had almost started today, the worst thing in the world. Just the thought of soiling her, to crush her innocence, for an innocent he was sure she was....god. How could he be thinking this? There was no choice involved, shouldn't be at least. But Snape knew what he would do, and he mourned inside because of it. 

  
  
  
  


Meanwhile...

  
  


Hermione slammed closed the cover of "Unicorns, a History of Myths and Folklore". The loud thud resounded throughout the nearly empty common room. She and Ginny had been studying for hours, ever since she had returned from her meeting with Snape. Unicorns, the subject fascinated her. So when Ginny had suggested that they might observe them together, Hermione had jumped at the chance. Ever since last year, Ginny had been her only true friend, Harry and Ron refused to talk to her now. Hermione reflected for a moment, thinking about what had happened, maybe she could have handled the situation better. Maybe telling Professor Mcgonagal had been a bit harsh, but there were reasons the lake was forbidden, especially late at night. She sighed inwardly, from then on Harry and Ron had refused to speak to her. But no matter what it had cost her, she didn't regret stopping them. Hermione would much rather except the cold silence they offered than have two dead friends. And when Ginny had offered her a king word and her friendship, Hermione had been very happy to accept. After all, Ginny was a bright girl and one couldn't remain friendless forever. So now they were in the process of researching Unicorns, to be sure to get as much as possible out of it when they watched them. It was enthralling, the reading itself was riveting, usually. But tonight she couldn't seem to concentrate. This afternoon had been a shock, and she needed time to think. Hermione pushed the chair back from the table and excused herself from Ginny. She could feel the cool stone against her bare feet as she padded up the stairs to her room. As head girl she naturally had her own living space, a cozy four roomed apartment she had occupied for the last four years. The copper door knob felt like ice against her heated skin. She walked into her bedroom and shut the door with a flick of her wrist. The events of the day swirled in her mind, threatening to drown her with their growing intensity. Preoccupied, and completely exhausted, Hermione unbuttoned her robe and let it fall to the floor. Oh well, she thought as she walked toward her bed, it's still warm enough to sleep like this, if only for a short time. As she slipped between the cool sheets she smiled. No matter what else, no matter how forbidden, she had enjoyed kissing Snape. Hermione lay back against the pillow and stared at the curtains swirling around her. How she had begged her parents for this bed, and then begged Dumbledore to let her bring it in! But it had been worth it, a beautiful four poster canopy bed, built with a beautiful mahogany, the one thing material possession she truly cherished. And the swirling draperies, fashioned of a gossamer violet color, threaded with silver and black, glistening in the moonlight, the thing she had worked all summer to afford. Her head spun, and tranquility wound itself around her. Everything was perfect...everything but... 


	4. Release

Chapter 4

  
  
  
  


Snape ran his finger over the crease of the paper in his pocket. Two hours writing and all of his heart poured into the words on this page. Oh! And God help him if anyone besides Hermione should read it. He could already picture the look he hoped she would wear as her eyes traced the words written. Suddenly he pitched forward, scraping his palm against the wall until the pressure allowed him to regain his balance. He scolded himself mentally, he shouldn't be allowing his daydreams to interfere with completing this errand. But after all, he rationalized, the steps to the owlry were definitely steep. And it didn't help that the darkness prevented him from seeing anything. But really, he thought as he proceeded, I must be more careful. It really would be bad if...

  
  


*Swack!* 

  
  
  
  


Snape yelped and leapt back, tottering on the edge of the step for a moment. He brought his fingers up to gingerly test his nose. Not broken, slightly bleeding, but nothing bad. He thanked God it was no worse. He could just imagine trying to explain to Dumbledore an hour from now at breakfast, why his nose had fragmented into several pieces. And where he had been to warrant such damage. NOT an appealing thought. Snape extended his arms carefully, feeling with his fingers for the doorknob. Ha! There!

  
  


Snape tiptoed in carefully and closed the door behind him. The floor was littered in hay and he could feel it cushioning his steps. He could barely make out the shadows of the owl perches in the sparse light. The moonlight shown through the slender slits in the stone, falling in a soft pattern upon various birds. He moved forward, past several owls until he reached the one he wanted. Forward his hand reached, grasping it's black legs, gently. An owl of snowy feathers and emerald eyes. Such an entrancingly beautiful creature, he thought, the perfect messenger for such a mission as this. He thrust the hand not containing the bird into his pocket, bringing forth a folded piece of parchment, and a lavender ribbon. Snape wound the parchment precisely around one of the bird's legs and secured it with the ribbon. He could feel the soft silk under his fingers, being slowly tied into an exacting bow. Snape walked over to the window and released the bird. Tracing the blur of white through the ever lightening sky, watching it's wings beat in perfect rhythm, he smiled. Today was his day of reckoning, the point of no return. How would she react to such a confession as this? A piece of parchment, painstaking torn from his journal, all of his hopes reflected on. He knew his life as he knew it hung by one slender thread, her reception. But as he stared into the early morning sky, watching the sun peek over the horizon, he realized he didn't care. After so many years of constant restraint, of forbidden secrets, he knew he had one thing to be proud of. He loved her, had always loved her, and took pride in the fact. No one could make him feel guilty of it. He had banished the fears of yesterday, why should it be indecent? She was not a child, and if age was measured by maturity, had never been one. She was a woman, fair and beautiful, wise and delicate. And he loved her.

  
  
  
  


When the tiny owl had landed beside her plate, Hermione stared at it, as though in time her gaze would explain the inexplicable. Who would send a single piece of paper, tied with a ribbon of her favorite color? Her stomach twisted inside her, for she knew the answer before she touched the paper. But after yesterday, and his show of such utter disgust, what could he have written? An apology? But if it was, why must it be a public display? Why had he planned it so everyone watching would see her expression as she read it and know she was weeping inside? There were no answers she would receive until she unwound it and forced words to form from those many letters. And if he despised her? If her performance yesterday had proved to him that she was no better than the lowest animal, if he wished never to see her again, then what? The same fear that had encased her last night was present now. Never had she been rejected, never had she been so blatantly honest as yesterday. And if today he felt only scorn, then what? How could she live, her dreams shattered on the rocks of despair? How could she face him, everyday, sweeping past him in the hall, brushing against his robes? How could she bear his penetrating gaze during class, holding only malice? How could she now, knowing how she felt, knowing what these words might cost her, how could she read them? Because, she thought, because they might not be what I fear they are. They might not.....She tried to reassure herself as she unwound the parchment from it's delicate bearer. She unfolded it slowly, as if to forestall the inevitable. Inside she steeled herself against what she knew it must say. She was prepared, nothing could shock her, nothing but... Her eyes widened as they skittered over the words. She read them repeatedly, he heart threatening to burst as she digested the contents of that wonderful letter. Finally, convinced, her arm dropped to her side and she let out a laugh. A laugh devoid of contempt and ill humor, a sound such as the smallest child should utter. The sound of innocence, light, carefree and happy danced in the air. A sound that represented not mirth or joviality, but serenity. The sound of one that knows life is a gift and nothing could happen to prevent it from being such. Those around her wondered aloud. But Hermione was oblivious. The memory of those words danced in her head as she laughed. The one thing she had been unprepared for had taken her by surprise in a way nothing else could.

  
  
  
  


My dearest

  
  


It has been said that a love between two such as us would be indecent, a blemish upon the otherwise flawless beauty of life. For years this false pretense has kept me from declaring to you my love. I realize now that until this moment everything I have lived for has been irrelevant, worthless. To love you fully and in the way I wish is not a blemish, it is to erase all previous blemishes. Is it to sweep free the clutter of wasted time and start life anew. It is to be fully alive, fully whole, fully innocent. A man can only love whomever he respects, whomever he sees the brilliance of his values reflected in. In you I see everything I have tried, and failed, to live for. The beauty of competence, earned and granted, reassurance that all that comes from you is your best. The sweetness of innocence in it's highest form, the expression of a life lived as desired, no restrictions placed upon it. A depth of beauty, thrust proudly into the world, afraid of no ridicule. And pride. Pride in your accomplishments, proud that you are who you are. No apology in you for being as brilliant and successful as you are. That is what I love most. That you are never ashamed to admit your worth, never ready to denounce yourself and everything you have worked so hard for. You are the embodiment of perfection, and to love anyone less would be a disservice to anything I have ever valued. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
